The bus rumbled softly as it rolled down the winding mountain road, the camp shrinking behind us like a memory that didn't quite want to fade. The windows rattled faintly, letting in thin streaks of sunlight and the scent of pine.
Haruto sat beside me, his head tilted slightly against the window, eyes closed. His breathing was calm, steady almost peaceful. For a moment, I just watched him, wondering how he could rest so easily after everything.
He'd changed.
The Haruto I remembered the one who used to flinch at every harsh word, who laughed awkwardly to hide how much things hurt wasn't the same boy sitting beside me now. His shoulders were straighter. His expression, even in sleep, was calm. And there was something in his presence… something grounded. Heavy, but not in a bad way. Like he'd decided something inside himself and nothing could shake it.
And I… didn't know what to feel about that.
My reflection in the window looked tired. My eyes were swollen from lack of sleep or maybe from guilt I didn't have the courage to name. Souta was sitting a few rows behind us, headphones on, staring out the opposite window. He hadn't said a single word since last night.
Between us, there was a silence I couldn't break.
My thoughts drifted back to the campfire to the way Haruto had looked under that warm, flickering light. He'd smiled, really smiled, for the first time in what felt like forever. And I'd laughed, too. For that one short moment, it almost felt like things were normal again.
But deep down, I knew they weren't.
Because even as I danced with him, even as I felt something familiar and comforting stir inside me Souta's gaze had been there, sharp and cold. I could feel it, even through the laughter.
What am I doing?
The question kept circling in my head like a moth that refused to die.
Was I still with Souta because of guilt? Because I thought I had to?
Or because I was afraid to admit that I missed the version of myself I used to be when I was with Haruto?
The bus jolted suddenly, snapping me out of my thoughts. Haruto shifted in his seat, muttering something half-asleep before settling again. His arm brushed mine lightly. The warmth of that small contact made my chest tighten.
If only things had gone differently back then.
Maybe we'd still be like this sitting together without all this distance between us.
Maybe I wouldn't be lying to both of them.
Maybe I wouldn't feel like I was breaking a little more each day.
I turned to look outside. The forest had faded into rows of houses now, and the familiar outline of the town appeared ahead. School, family, reality everything waiting for us like a test I wasn't ready to take.
I closed my eyes for a moment and made a quiet decision.
When we get back, I'll end it with Souta.
By the time the bus stopped in front of the school, most students were already gathering their things. Bags slung, chatter rising, everyone ready to go home and brag about the trip. Haruto finally opened his eyes and stretched.
"We're back," he said, voice low from sleep.
"Yeah," I replied softly, forcing a small smile. "We are."
We stepped off the bus together. The afternoon sun hit my face, warm but a little too bright. Haruto yawned, rubbing his neck, then looked at me.
"Guess we'll see each other Monday?"
"Yeah." I hesitated. "Thanks… for everything. You really helped."
He smiled calm, quiet, the same as always. "It's nothing. Just glad you're safe."
Before I could stop myself, I stepped forward and hugged him.
It wasn't long. Just a second long enough to remember how safe it used to feel being near him. But when I pulled back, he looked surprised, a little caught off guard.
Before either of us could say anything, a car horn honked nearby.
"Sweetheart!" my mom called, waving from the driver's seat. "Over here!"
I turned back to Haruto and forced a small, nervous laugh. "That's my ride."
"Yeah," he said, still half-smiling. "See you."
I nodded, grabbed my bag, and ran toward the car.
The moment I opened the door, Mom's curious eyes darted toward Haruto, who was standing a few meters away.
"Who's that?" she asked. "Your classmate?"
I hesitated. "…Haruto."
She blinked. "Haruto? As in that Haruto? He's totally changed. I almost didn't recognize him."
"Yeah," I said quietly, buckling my seatbelt. "He really has."
When I got home, the quiet hit me first.
No laughter, no sound just the faint ticking of the wall clock. I carried my bag upstairs, dropped it near the bed, and stared at my reflection in the mirror.
I didn't look like someone who knew what she was doing. I looked like someone pretending everything was fine.
I changed clothes, washed my face, and went straight to the bathroom. The warm water from the shower hit my skin, and with it came the weight of every thought I'd been avoiding.
Souta's face. Haruto's smile. My own reflection in between.
I leaned my forehead against the cold tile and whispered to myself, "It has to end."
When I stepped out of the shower, I checked my phone. A message from Souta blinked on the screen:
> "We need to talk."
My stomach tightened.
I didn't reply.
Haruto's Perspective
By the time I reached home, the sky had turned orange, the edges of the clouds burning gold in the setting sun. I stepped inside and was greeted by the smell of fried tofu and soy sauce.
"Welcome home!" Mom called from the kitchen, smiling as she wiped her hands on her apron. "You look tired."
"Camp was… eventful," I said, setting my bag down.
"Did you have fun?"
"Yeah," I replied. "More than I expected."
She chuckled. "That's good. Go rest, I'll bring dinner soon."
I nodded and headed to my room.
The moment I shut the door, the mask slipped.
I wasn't tired just heavy. Like the air itself was pressing down on me.
I sat on my bed and stared at the wall for a while. The laughter from camp still echoed in my head Miyuki's laugh, clear and soft. The way she'd smiled under the firelight. The way she'd looked at me before leaving.
It would've been easier if I hated her completely.
But I didn't. That was the problem.
I opened my laptop, the hidden file still sitting there the one with the video. The evidence that could ruin everything between her and Souta in a single click. I stared at the folder, my finger hovering above the trackpad.
Not yet.
I wanted more than that. I wanted them to understand what it felt like to lose everything slowly, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but regret.
I closed the laptop gently, leaned back, and stared at the ceiling.
Outside, the sound of cicadas faded with the evening light.
Inside, my heartbeat was steady, cold.
They thought they'd moved on.
But I was just getting started.